The Natural Order
by Joon
Summary: After the events of “Faith,” higher powers have been alerted to the unwanted changes made to certain people’s fate.
1. Chapter 1

TITLE: The Natural Order

AUTHOR: Joon

RATED: R (for language)

SPOILERS: Spoilers for Neal Shaffer and Daniel Krall's graphic novel, "One Plus One." Spoilers through "Faith."

DISCLAIMER: Kripke owns the Brothers Winchester. Neal Shaffer and Daniel Krall own David Coulson and Leonard. I'm just messing with them.

SUMMARY: After the events of "Faith," higher powers have been alerted to the unwanted changes made to certain people's fate.

NOTES: For those of you who have never read "One Plus One," it isn't essential to understanding this story. Certain powers the characters from "One Plus One" possess are detailed in the first chapter.

**The Natural Order**

"Usual, babe?"

"You got it."

Laurie flashed Leonard a smile. With a training that came with years and years of experience, he ignored the decaying edges of her once pink lips and gave her a smile of his own. Watching the young waitress take off with his order, he noted her blackened right leg that was usually concealed from him with the jeans she often sported. Now, in a short skirt, the charred flesh and seared muscles were clearly exposed.

_Car accident probably. _Leonard guessed. He hated seeing the younger ones. _Not even out of school yet._

6pm had barely crawled in and Dante's was already filling up with the usual patrons. Amongst the sea of familiar rotting faces, Leonard spotted a small smatter of new ones. But there never was much variation in how they looked to Leonard after he stared long enough to blink past their current status, to see what they would look like when lying in a coffin or on a coroner's table.

Every once in awhile, he'd spot a really nasty one. Last month a man roughly Leonard's age had stopped by the bar to get a drink. He'd worn a tired expression that of Dante's patrons donned. Sipping back a scotch, he'd made small talk with the bartender, telling him he was just driving through on a sales run from Ohio to Chicago. Leonard was sure everyone else had forgotten about the guy the minute he'd left, if they'd him noticed at all. Only Leonard had been able to see the man's face split down in half, as if a powerful force had driven a pick axe through the top of his skull. God, what possible scenario would have led to THAT? Leonard had almost said something. Almost. It wouldn't have changed anything.

Recalling the memory, Leonard quickly took a gulp of the drink Laurie had set in front of him.

It was two hours later that Leonard was staring down his third drink when he saw out of his periphery, a man in a dark suit standing next to his booth.

Glancing up to the new arrival's face, Leonard felt an involuntary bark of laughter escape from him. "I'll be a sonovabitch. David."

A smile drifted across David's features. "Hello Leonard."

"Jesus Christ, I didn't think I'd see you again after..." Leonard's voice trailed off as his throat unexpectedly dried. Flashes of the companion David had had with him during the last meeting filtered through Leonard's mind. If the younger man noticed, Leonard's reverie, he didn't show it.

"Mind if I join you?"

Breaking out of his momentary daydream, Leonard nodded. Despite the bolt of fear that shot through Leonard, he found himself staring eagerly at David, who slid easily into the booth. It had been a year since the last time they'd met. And David had worn the same suit and the same mild, enigmatic expression on his face. A face that never altered no matter how long Leonard stared at him. Since that year, Leonard had yet to run across anyone else whose face remained alive and fresh under his gaze. No matter how apprehensive he'd felt the last time he'd met up with David, his eyes still hungrily basked in the glory of a body that didn't decay in front of him.

David lit a cigarette and remained silent, seemingly allowing Leonard to stare to his heart's content. Finally noticing what he was doing, Leonard gave an embarrassed cough and looked away.

"How've you been?" David asked.

"Not too bad. Same this, same that."

"How about that novel you were writing? Ever finish it?"

"Nah," Leonard shook his head, rolling the empty glass in his hand. "It wasn't really a novel. Just something to do to keep my mind from going, you know." David nodded.

"Get you another, Leonard?" asked Laurie, stopping by. Seeing David, she narrowed her eyes for a minute before pointing a finger at him. "Cutty on the rocks, am I right?"

"Good memory," praised David.

"The best," agreed Laurie. "I'll be back in a minute."

"Thank you," said David, waving off the bills Leonard was handing over to her. "I'll get this."

Waiting until Laurie left, Leonard put his now empty hand flat on the table. "So, what brings you back? Another job?"

"Yes."

"Hm."

"Pretty surprised myself. I hardly ever hit the same place twice," said David, blowing out a thin line of smoke.

"Then I'm guessing you stopping by Dante's wasn't just to shoot the shit over some drinks," Leonard bit out.

David didn't look surprised at the sudden display of bitterness. "I'd be lying if I said no," he agreed. "But like before, Leonard. You don't have to help me." He smiled a thanks to Laurie who came back with their drinks. "It'll make things easier for me, but no hard feelings if you don't."

Leonard took a long swallow from his glass and watched David smoke for a few beats. "You know," he began. "When you and me first met and you asked me to help you out….well, I thought, shit. Finally I get to use this curse of mine to help out someone. Never gave it much thought why you needed to make sure that kid was gonna get it like he did. Was just happy to be useful. To make this THING of mine useful."

"And it was," David said.

"Yeah." Leonard paused. Mulling over his next words. "I guess it was 'cause lookin' at you was a relief to me that I never thought about what I was being a part of when I took a look at that kid."

"Leonard, you weren't a part of anything that wasn't supposed to happen."

"Really? Is that a fact?"

David shrugged, putting out his cigarette. "The natural order of things, Leonard."

A silence lapsed as Leonard felt his fourth drink warm his stomach and blur his mind enough so that the decaying bodies of all the people walking behind David seemed more like images out of a nightmare, rather than reality.

"Can I ask you something?" said Leonard.

"Sure."

"How'd you know I wouldn't warn that kid about what I saw?"

David smiled. It was almost condescending and Leonard felt strangely deserving of the look. "Why would you have?"

Leonard snorted. "Guess you're right. Leave the interfering to the experts, right?"

"Look at it as more enforcing than interfering. Budding writer like yourself would know the subtle difference."

"So what are you here to enforce this time? Make sure some two-bit thug meets his maker at the wrong end of a pistol?"

"No, it's a little different this time." David paused, mulling over how much he should share. But seeing the grim expression on Leonard's face, the younger man felt a little elaboration this time wouldn't hurt. He owed Leonard something for the blind favor he did him last time.

"Every once in awhile, I get a job that's a little more complicated than just making sure something goes the way it should. And I don't always get all the information I need," he said. "Like this one. Before I can start on my work, I need to figure out where things are."

"Is this where I come in?"

"Yes." Lighting another cigarette, David tilted his chin toward the door to the bar that was behind Leonard. "In a few minutes, two strangers are going to walk through that door. I need you to take a look at one of them and tell me what you see."

"Is that it?"

David gave him a puzzled look. "What did you think I was going to ask?"

Leonard shook his head, feeling a little drunker than usual. "No, I mean. Is that it? Just the one look? You're not going to have me look again?"

"Ah. Well, that all depends on what you see."

Leonard frowned, seeing the expression David's face. "You ever feel bad about you do? Like what you're doing is wrong?" The evening of gin and tonics had him feeling less awkward about asking personal questions.

"It's not about right or wrong, Leonard. It's about what has to happen. Like I said, natural order of things."

Before he could reply, Leonard felt a blast of cold wind hit the back of his head, indicating the door to the bar had opened. Even over the din of clinking glasses and slapping of pool balls, he could hear the stomping of boots. Looking at David across their table, he saw the younger man's eyes flicker with recognition.

"They're here." Leonard didn't ask. He knew.

"Like I said, Leonard. You don't need to help me. I really do mean that."

Keeping his eyes down, Leonard sat still as two figures walked past their booth, toward the bar. "Which one?" he finally asked.

If David was smiling happily, Leonard wouldn't have seen it. The older man was now focused on not staring at the features that had given him so much relief before.

"The shorter one. He's heading toward the pool table."

Knocking back the rest of his drink, Leonard looked up.

His eyes fell on the young man with a beer in hand, who was walking over to a pool game already in session. His taller companion hung back and took a seat at the bar. Neither one looked like they'd even hit their 30th birthday.

_Christ. Kids. Again. _Leonard couldn't help the angered look he shot at David. _Didn't this guy ever enforce anyone who was older than just out of college?_

"What do you see?" asked David. Impatience didn't look right on David. Leonard guessed he didn't feel it often.

Looking back at the pool table, Leonard saw the shorter man put his beer down to grab a cue stick. Judging by rifling and slapping down of bills, a bet was happening. Taking a breath, Leonard stared. He kept his eyes on the young man's face as he walked around the pool table. Leonard blinked. _What the hell?_ Rubbing his eyes briefly, he looked again.

"What do you see?" David repeated, stabbing out his cigarette.

"Give me a minute," Leonard hissed. The strangeness of what he was seeing cleared his mind from the alcohol in his body. The room crystallized and every rotting face looked sharper to Leonard. He focused in on his target, who was sinking in ball and after ball. Finally, he missed, giving his opponent a turn. Standing still, he gave Leonard an opportunity to scrutinize his features.

It flickered with each thump of Leonard's own heartbeat. He saw a young kid's face. Healthy, sharp eyes with an equally sharp grin. And then he saw he saw the same kid with a face suddenly thinner. Dark circles lined his eyes, their purplish hue matching his lips. And then he saw a healthy face again.

Leonard shook his head. "Fuck. Something's wrong. My eyes are…"

"What do you see?" David demanded.

"It keeps flickering. Not usually what happens. Usually I can just see them dead." He looked again and saw with each pulse the two faces of the kid flash in and out. He held up his still half full glass of gin and tonic. Surely the alcohol wasn't affecting him this much. Years ago he used to on benders to try and stop what he saw and still the visions came to him with absolute clarity. He looked over at David, expecting to see astonishment on his face as well.

But his tablemate only looked thoughtful, perhaps a bit pensive. Noticing Leonard's uneasy expression, he spared him a smile. "Don't worry, Leonard. Nothing's wrong with your eyes."

Leonard would have laughed at that comment if he hadn't felt so disturbed. "Is that what I'm supposed to see?"

David twisted around to look over at the pool table. His gaze then shifted to the bar, studying the taller one who was now pouring over a newspaper. For a minute, he thought to ask Leonard to study him as well, but decided against it. It probably didn't matter at this point. One thing at a time.

"What's it mean?" Leonard asked.

David turned back around and took a sip from his drink. "It means my job's got a lot more complicated."

"I don't get it. Is he like you? Is he already…you know? Dead?"

David shook his head. "No, not like me. And he's not dead." His lips curled into a slight grimace as he took another sip. "He's supposed to be, though."

To Be Continued...


	2. Chapter 2

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello, here is the 2nd chapter. I apologize for the lack of actual speaking Winchesters in these chapters. I swear I'll be moving out of setting up the characters from "One Plus One" soon.

* * *

A burst of laughter had Sam lifting his eyes up from the paper he was scanning. Across the space separating the bar from the pool table, he watched as Dean systematically bled money from the three guys he was playing, all the while making them laugh and grin, no doubt from some crude joke. Shaking his head in amusement, a sensation that never went away no matter how many times he saw Dean scam money from smiling victims, he returned to the paper.

A brief article about a man found dead in his apartment caught his eye. The fact that his apartment had been locked from the inside with no evidence of forced entry and the detail of all his teeth having been pulled out were the main highlights. It wasn't necessarily evidence of anything other worldly, but Sam circled the article anyway.

"Motherfucker on a stick!"

Raising his eyes from his reading again, Sam caught the incredulous expression on one guy's face as Dean sank what probably was an impossible shot. His eyes drifted over his brother, who was wearing a similar expression of shock on his face at what he'd just accomplished. Sam wondered if Dean was acting or if it was just his bizarre luck rearing its head once again.

In the past few days, Sam was willing to believe that luck followed them around like a pet. Sure, it hadn't been around when they were kids and both parents were in the picture. But it sure as hell was making itself known now. Especially in Dean's case. While Sam had taken a brief sabbatical from hunting by way of college and a taste of normal life, his brother had been hunting nearly 15 years straight with nary a serious injury amidst the million opportunities.

Sure, Sam had thought luck had finally exited the building when the doctors told him the electrocution resulted in Dean having weeks to live. But the faith healer picking and healing Dean, despite the flock of others who were competing for the spot convinced Sam that luck was still on their side. Yes, the healing wasn't the most ideal, coming at the cost of someone else's life. And yes, the ordeal had left his brother with additional emotional baggage that he didn't need.

But looking at Dean now, a grin plastered on his face as collected the cash from his win, Sam didn't care. Underneath his brother's smile and grin, he knew the more troubled thoughts that still plagued Dean over his healing. But his brother was alive. Alive to ponder those thoughts another day. Alive to hustle pool another day. Alive to deny Sam a turn at driving another day. And to Sam, that was all he needed to know they were lucky.

* * *

Staring at the continuously alternating faces was giving Leonard a headache. Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose before turning his gaze back to David. For his part, the younger man was lighting another cigarette and staring thoughtfully at the curling smoke.

"I can hear your wheels turning," Leonard muttered.

"What?" said David, breaking out of his concentrated look.

"What my dad used to say to me," Leonard clarified. "Whenever he caught me staring off." His father had often thought Leonard was daydreaming, not knowing the kind of nightmare his son was trying to avoid by not looking at him directly in the face. "So, you got what you need?" he asked.

"Yes," David replied. Leonard nodded, pulling his drink closer to him. He cupped the glass to his chest, cradling it like a child and seemingly dismissing David. Normally, David would have taken the cue and left. But embarrassingly, he found himself still seated. It was a lie, really. He only had part of what he needed. And it wasn't even the most important part. What he really needed to know was what or who had pushed this to happen. And who would be around to make sure things remained on their current deviant path. He cleared his throat. "Actually, Leonard."

"Need me to take another look?" Leonard interrupted, beating him to the punch.

"Later. After I've done what needs to be done."

The older man fixed him with a hard stare. "You gonna tell me what it is I'm SUPPOSED to see next time?"

David gave him a small smile. "You're supposed to see what you normally see. A dead man. ONLY that. Nothing else."

"Got something particular in mind?" Leonard asked morbidly. His mind expectedly conjured up images of the young man's face, now half obliterated by a gunshot or blackened by some fire.

"Not just yet," said David. "I just need to make sure of a few things first. But you will help me?" He looked over at Leonard who was still staring at him, that look of despair mixed with an odd expression of relief stamped across his weathered features.

"Goddamn," Leonard breathed, shaking his head. "I know it's all kinds of batshit fucked up. But no matter how messed up this all is, looking at you and just….being around you is still the sanest I've ever felt."

"Does that mean yes?"

"Yeah."

To be continued….


	3. Chapter 3

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The female character was created by Neal Schaffer in "One Plus One" but was never officially given a name, so I just picked one for her. She had a brief appearance in the graphic novel, so I'm just taking my best guess in the purpose that she serves in the context of the "One Plus One" universe. In my story, she serves a very specific purpose.

Onward!

* * *

It was different than the ones he was used to having, but it filled him with dread regardless.

There were no terrifying images scorched into his memory like before. Nothing that involved eviscerated loved ones or destructive fires. There was only darkness. A darkness so pitch black, he couldn't even see an inch in front of him.

"_Stay here."_

Where was that coming from? He whirled around to find even more black. "Hello?" he called. "Dean?"

"_Stay here." _

The voice was definitely female. "Where are you?" Sam shouted. He couldn't even figure out what direction the voice was coming from.

"_Stay here."_

Sam returned to consciousness with an abrupt jerk of his limbs.

A sharp pain shot through his arm as his eyes snapped open, followed by the sound of something crashing to the carpeted floor.

"Sam?" Dean's voice sounded amazingly sharp, considering the rude awakening. In the darkened room, Sam could see the outline of Dean's shape, now sitting up in the bed across from his, clutching a knife at the ready.

"I'm okay," he replied, automatically. He reached over to turn on the lamp on the side table and realized he'd knocked it over when he woke up. Awkwardly retrieving it, he switched it on, giving his face a slightly demonic look as the now naked bulb underlit his face.

Seeing no immediate danger, Dean stowed the knife back to its rightful place and groaned when he noticed it was nearly 4am. "Man, I feel like I JUST went to sleep!" He glanced over at Sam, who was fitting the shade back on the lamp. Normally when Sam woke up his dreams, usually waking Dean up in the process, there was usually an expression of fear and grief that soon melted into a grim mask on his face. Instead, Sam looked faintly disturbed. "You have another nightmare?"

"I…I'm….not sure," Sam admitted.

"Well, did you dream about something that scared the crap out of you? That's usually how I can tell a nightmare." Dean frowned at the lack of reaction from his brother at the remark. "Seriously, what did you dream about?"

"I'm not sure," said Sam. "I didn't actually see anything." And the more he thought about it, he realized not seeing anything was disturbing him more than his usual nightly rounds of visual terrors.

"Guess it's your lucky night, then," said Dean, sounding like he was already getting back to sleeping. Reaching over, he flicked the newly adjusted lamp off.

"Just because I can't remember doesn't mean it wasn't a nightmare," Sam argued, flicking the lamp back on. The underlying bad feeling was starting to expand.

Dean buried his head under his extra pillow when the light flooded the room again. "Take what you can get, Sammy. Don't look at it in the mouth."

Sam scoffed at the muffled words. "THIS coming from YOU? What happened to trusting your hunches?" Only the sound of obviously fake snoring replied to that comment. "Oh, that's a cheap way to end a debate."

"I'm not the budding lawyer. Now, go to sleep."

"Dean." More fake snoring. "Dean!"

"Alright, dammit," Dean acquiesced. Pulling his head back out, he gave his brother a foul look before sitting up all the way.

Meeting Dean's expectant look, Sam tried to explain it as clearly as he could. "There was a voice. A woman, definitely. She was telling me to stay here."

"Was she hot?"

"I couldn't see her," said Sam, lost in thought.

"Did she sound hot?" Dean tried again.

"That's not the point!"

"Okay! Relax, dude. I'm just trying to get interested in your story. So, some chick was telling you to stay, go on."

"That's it," Sam admitted.

"That's it? That's all you got? For this I'm losing sleep?"

"Look, I know it sound like much."

"That's because it isn't much," groused Dean.

Sam shook his head. "I don't think so."

Dean slid back down on the bed. "What makes you so sure?"

"I'm having a bad feeling."

Looking over at his brother, Dean paused before sighing. "Listen, Sam. Maybe you just had a regular whacked out dream. You know, the _normal _kind you get from too much Chinese food."

"We didn't have Chinese food last night," Sam said, vaguely.

"Whatever. You know what I mean."

Sam opened his mouth to argue again, but stopped himself. Maybe Dean was right. Maybe it was just a normal, messed up dream. He supposed it wasn't out of the question. But it still felt wrong to leave it hanging. And while they might not figure out what to do right now, the need to at least talk to Dean about it was strong. A trait that had only grown tenfold after he had been threatened with the idea that Dean might not be around past two weeks to listen to him ramble on about a nightmare of his. And comfort him in his Dean-esque badgering way that was annoying most of the time, but always did the trick.

Sam turned to tell his brother that maybe he was right about it being a normal dream when he caught him snoring again. This time it didn't look like he was faking.

* * *

After his 10th cigarette in under two hours, David opened the window to his apartment to let some of the smoke out. It was when he did this that he saw her. Looking up at him from the street, she raised a hand and waved. First a greeting and then a beckoning for him to come down.

Pulling his head back in, David slammed the window shut and cursed softly. She wasn't the type to show herself like this so quickly in the game. It could only mean she thought she had some sort of upper hand on him already. Not that that would be too hard. After all, this case would require a more hands-on approach. Something she was used to and something David didn't really enjoy. He hated getting his hands dirty. It somehow made him feel…culpable. Hence the 2 hour smoking session that had now just been interrupted.

She greeted him with a wide smile that lit up her small face when he came out to join her on the pavement.

"Good morning, Mr. Coulson," she greeted. "Up early, I see."

"Angela."

"Care to join me for breakfast? The diner across the street has a great lumberjack spread."

If there was one thing that Angela didn't have, it was a poker face. David could practically see the smugness smeared across her features. But maybe she was faking it. Making him want to think she knew more than she did. Shaking his head, David tried to shove off his double thinking. Maybe breakfast wasn't a bad idea.

"So…not usually your style to call a meeting before we each take our shot," he said, as they sat down to eat. "But it seems like your people already took their shot awhile ago." Angela's eyes shined innocence. "Leading Mrs. La Grange to that book must have taken quite a lot of work."

"Well, little ol' me can't take credit for that. Although my associate did mention it was quite a tricky move." The smug look on Angela's face faded slightly to something more annoyed when she added, "But it seems you've taken great pains to reverse a few things."

"Well, little ol' me can't take credit for that," repeated David, feeling slightly petty. "And I wouldn't say reverse. It's correcting." They paused when their waitress deposited two large plates of pancakes in front of them. "So, is there a reason for this little get together?" he asked, eyeing her across his jumbo stack.

"Simply to say hello again," she replied, lightly. "We don't have much time before this is all over and I wasn't sure I'd have the pleasure of seeing you again."

"Right." While Angela doused her pancakes in syrup, David continued to watch her. She knew something. Or she was already doing something. Even when he had been an actual member of the functioning society, David hated being out of his element. And knowing his own squeamishness about getting down and dirty on this case while his opponent was obviously quite comfortable with the idea was starting to grate at him.

"You know," said Angela, conversationally. "It's not too late to drop out. I'm sure you can just tell your people that this one just happened to slip away from you." She took a bite of her breakfast. "After all, it isn't THAT big a deal, now is it?"

David gave a humorless laugh. "You know perfectly well what's happened because of this. Someone has to fix it."

"Maybe it doesn't need fixing," said Angela, looking nonplussed. "Maybe, in the end, it's just no big deal."

"I highly doubt it."

"You really fret too much, Mr. Coulson," said Angela, around a mouthful of pancake. "I mean, really, after all, a life is a life. What difference does it make as long as it all balances out in the end?"

"I'm sure Marshall Hall finds it to be quite a difference."

"But really, what would Marshall Hall have REALLY accomplished in his relatively short time on earth?"

"I'm sure not very much," David agreed. "Still, it was his time. And having someone else walk around with it doesn't sit well. Especially since I highly doubt Mr. Hall would have spent his remaining days hunting monsters and demons. That's not what his time was allotted for."

"But now he gets to contribute so much more to this nice little planet!" Angela chirped, cheerily. Seeing David's stone determined face, she sighed. "Oh dear. And I did so hope we could be friends this time." David only took a sip of his coffee. "You never see the larger picture, Mr. Coulson."

"Oh, I see the larger picture," countered David. "And I don't know why you and your people want things to turn out this way, but it won't happen."

"We'll see," Angela smiled, complacently. "Are you going to eat that?" she asked, indicating his breakfast.

David looked at his plate. "Do what the Romans do," he muttered to himself as he picked up his fork.


End file.
